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Indulgence

Nov 29, 2021

The house is silent when Sasuke steps over the threshold, and completely dark as well. Sarada, he knows, is with the rest of her team sleeping over at Naruto’s home. The genin were exhausted after days of intense training as they prepared for the Chunin Exams. 

He is rather tired himself, he finds, after attending meeting after meeting with Naruto, the council, remote contact with each leader of the other hidden villages. A deep sigh falls from his lips as he toes off his sandals slowly, treading quietly down the hall toward he and Sakura’s room. It is late enough that she might already be asleep--her schedule, too, has been hectic with preparations. Gathering the resources and detailing procedures for an international event in which injury was very much a given was a tall order for even the best of medical ninja (which his wife surely was).

Sasuke has to stifle a yawn as he finally steps in front of the entrance to his and his wife’s bedroom. His hand barely brushes the doorknob when a startling, familiar sound filters to his ears and causes him to freeze.

Heart pounding, he holds his breath and listens closely. Within a few seconds, the sound comes again, if a bit louder. A keening, breathy moan that is as familiar to him as his own heartbeat and sends a shiver down his spine even as his muscles tense further.

Not even for one second does he think his wife has welcomed someone else into their bed-- because he trusts her, and also because if there were someone else making love in his home, he would have detected the unfamiliar presence before even walking through the front door.

That means his wife is pleasuring herself in the dark of night, in their bed, alone. 

And that simply would not do. Not when she has a perfectly good husband willing to lend his single helping hand.

He lingers for a moment longer, letting his eye slip shut and ears home in on the sound of panting breaths, of rustling sheets. The sweet moans spilling just barely under the gap of the doorframe conjure up so many images that gooseflesh rises on his skin, his insides becoming liquid heat. When his eye reopens, red has bled over his vision.

With a flick of his wrist the door is swinging open and he has crossed over the threshold. The sight before him was more than he could have anticipated.

It’s only for a split second, but with his dojutsu engaged it could have been an eternity-- his gaze falls to the deep flush spreading upwards from pert nipples to the high points of her cheeks, pink hair spread messily about their pillows. The comforter is pushed to the very edge of the mattress, leaving him to gander freely at the muscular thighs spread wide and trembling, shining with wetness. 

Those same juices cling to the fingers sliding through her pinkened folds.

Within a blink of his eye, Sakura’s hands have flown to cover her breasts as her sensual moans morph into a piercing shriek, legs snapping shut with an audible smack.

“Sa-Sasuke!” she gasps, voice off kilter and thick with what he knows must be residual pleasure.

He continues to watch her quietly as he pulls the bedroom door shut behind him and takes slow steps toward the end of the bed. The flush on her face has darkened and green eyes flit around to land on everything in the room except him. 

“You’re home early,” his wife says in what can only be described as a squeak. Sasuke notes the way her gaze darts to the crumpled covers before shooting to his face and back again-- as if she is weighing the cost of making a dive for it and burying herself in the pile of fabrics.

“We got done sooner than expected,” his voice is huskier and heavier than intended when he finally responds. But he can still see the swell of her breast over the cover of her hands, and the sweet spot cradled between her tightly clenched thighs.

“O-Oh,” she replies shakily. “Um, d-do you want something to eat?”

As she scrambles into an upright position while attempting to keep her form covered, Sasuke fights the smile threatening to tug at his mouth. He had never imagined seeing his wife so flustered, stammering and all would be so endearing.

He never imagined it would arouse him so. She is just about to snatch up her discarded nightdress -- and he is moments away from taking a dive onto the mattress to stop her-- when a wicked thought takes hold of his mind.

“Don’t let me interrupt what you were doing before,” a thrill shoots down his spine and settles in between his hips as her form freezes. 

“Um,” she murmurs, gazing at him helplessly. Her mouth is reddened and he can even see the imprints of her teeth in the swell of her lower lip. 

“Since my wife could not wait for her husband to return and take care of her needs...” he drawls, delighting in the way her eyes widen impossibly further as he begins the process of unbuttoning his shirt.

“Wait,” her hands fly out and wave around spasmodically. Sasuke zeroes in on the perky breasts now exposed fully to his view. “I didn’t expect you to be home and I… it was a long day…”

Her voice trails off as Sasuke’s shirt slips from his shoulders, soon accompanied by his pants as he lets them slide down and pool at his feet. Eyelids lowering, her eyes slide down his form, locking on the spot where his arousal strains below the waistband of his underwear.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, caring for yourself in my absence,” he murmurs. “So, continue.”

There is a dazed sort of look in Sakura’s eyes as she gazes at him that makes him nearly dizzy with want. It takes a long moment before she seems to register what he has said.

“What?” she questions, eyes shooting back up to his face. 

“Continue pleasuring yourself,” he clarifies, “as you were doing before.”

Silence. That pretty red mouth is gaping in shock and the clothes he still has on fit tighter for it.

“You want me to...touch myself?” she eventually whispers, weakly. “Right now?”

He shrugs, taking a lazy step forward until his legs are nearly brushing the foot of their bed.

“Isn’t that what you were doing anyway?” he asks quietly, reaching out to run his index finger gently over the delicate bones of her ankle.

Sakura’s mouth opens and shuts a few times before she sputters, “But you’re here.”

He tilts his head and arches a brow, “Can’t a man watch his wife?”

“But-,” she nearly chokes as he leans in, palm sliding up the inner part of her leg and wedging between her tightly closed knees. A quiet whimper spills from her, “Why?”

It’s a gargantuan effort to pull his hand away from her warm, soft flesh and straighten once more.

“Why not?” he murmurs. “It isn’t every day that I get to see what happens when I’m away and you are in need. So show me, tsuma.”

Sakura’s entire body is trembling and her gaze drops to her lap as she curls her arms around herself protectively. 

“I don’t-,” she swallows thickly, bringing her gaze back to his with visible effort. “I don’t think I can...do that, with you watching me.”

Sasuke gazes down at her for a long moment, eyes flitting over her pinched features. Fine brows furrow and pink lips flatten into a line as her cheeks darken impossibly and a tinge of guilt creeps down his nape.

“Tsuma,” he says gently, reaching out again to grasp her ankle. He tugs gently until she slides close enough for him to run his fingers over her still-warm, slightly damp cheek.

When she tilts her face up toward him, he can’t resist bending down to claim her lips. He kisses her soundly, nipping and sucking at her mouth until it darkens from shell pink to cherry red. A sweet, breathless sigh falls from her lips when he finally frees them to nip at her jawline, mouth sliding backward until his lips hover next to her ear.

“I want to watch you make love to yourself,” he rasps, delighting in the way she shudders. “And then, after, I want to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

“Sasuke-kun,” she whispers, shifting her weight so she’s leaning closer to him, grasping at him with warm, soft, sensual hands. “Anata…”

It takes more effort than he cares to admit, plucking her hand away from his chest as he moves to rise from the bed once more. Her eyes shine like green flame as they slide over his form hungrily.

“Will it help,” he asks slowly, hooking his fingers under the waistband of his underwear, “if I let you watch me, too?”

Sakura’s eyes snap up from the hardness standing at attention between his hips to his face with an expression of shock. Her pretty mouth is open, eyes blown wide and Sasuke nearly throws his entire plan to the wind.

“Would you like to watch me, Sakura?” he asks, pulling down the last of his garments and grasping himself as he swings free from his constraints.

Sakura swallows visibly before nodding her head shakily, gaze fixated on the lazy stroke of his hand over his rigid length.

“Hn,” he inhales deeply, tightening his grip slightly at the sight of her nipples perking and thighs shifting once more. He halts the movement of his hand, pinning her with his burning gaze. “Then show me what you were doing before.”

There’s a moment when he thinks perhaps she will say no, that what he is asking of her is too much. Her lids lower over her bright eyes and she sucks in a deep breath, and Sasuke prepares himself to stop what has not even begun.

Then she’s laying back slowly, knees rising to her chest before opening slowly, spreading wide for him to see every inch of her center.

“Is this what you want to see, Sasuke-kun?” there’s the slightest tremble to her voice and her fingers, too, as a single hand slides down her torso to rest just above her glistening mound.

“Aa,” he replies huskily, zeroing in on the way the slender appendages slide painstakingly slow between her petal-like folds, spreading them open so he can see into her entrance,

Sakura begins a gentle circling motion, focusing on the pearled nub peeking between her nether lips. The insides of her thighs are quivering and her breaths come out in shaking pants. Sasuke glances upward, sight falling on her face. Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut, teeth sinking deeply into the fullness of her lower lip.

Sasuke calls to her quietly, “Open your eyes, Sakura.”

Pale lashes flutter, but her lids remain tightly shut. The hand at her core never stops its movements, but the rest of her form looks too stiff; this is not the Sakura he had seen in the throes of pleasure when he had first entered the room.

“You’re supposed to watch me, too,” he says, voice low and as gentle as he can manage. “Remember?”

Just as she pries her eyes open, Sasuke leans over, reaching between her legs. He slides his hand up her center, from the base of his palm to the tips of his fingers, slipping through the juices accumulating below her own small appendages.

Sakura gasps loudly, jaw dropping as he brings his slickened hand back to his arousal, squeezing gently and sliding up and down the length with increased ease.

He sighs deeply, gaze locking onto hers as he spoke once more in a tight voice, “You have no idea how I yearn for you while I’m away. I dream about your eyes when they first open in the morning, how your voice sounds when you moan my name.”

His wife’s eyes are flitting almost comically between his mouth and his hand, and were it not for the heat sizzling in his lower belly and the pressure building in his center, he might have let loose a slight chuckle.

“Did you dream of me, tsuma?” he asked, fisting himself more firmly and stroking down from his tip to base in an achingly slow, fluid motion. 

“Aa,” she mumbled, eyes fixating on the lazily movements of his hand. “All...all the time.”

“And?” he murmured, lips pulling at the edges in an almost-grin as Sakura’s hand began to stroke lazily, almost at the exact pace of his. The flush on her cheeks spreads all the way to her budding nipples; Sasuke bites his lip at the tingle creeping upward from the base of his spine.

“I would feel...so lonely,” she breaths, bringing her other arm up and allowing her hand to splay on her upper chest. “When I’d wake up, and you weren’t there to-”

Her words break off on a breathy moan, and Sasuke notes how her hips shift and curl toward her fingers as they strum over the tiny nub peeking between her blushing folds.

“Weren’t there to what?” he urges, ripping his gaze away from the treasure between her legs to look at her barely-open eyes. 

“To touch me, make love to me” she says, sounding so helpless Sasuke lost his own rhythm. “You were gone and I just wanted to be touched…”

He forces himself to shake off the guilt trying to creep about the edges, instead focusing on the way her fingers speed up, whirling around in fast, tight little circles as she loses herself to her own musings and her own pleasure.

“Did you touch yourself, then?” he questions huskily, taking a step forward as his hand increases its pace against his own rigid flesh. 

Sakura nods, eyes flitting over his face before she looks to the side, almost bashfully. Her hand maintains its movements, and as her chest heaves with quickening breaths, Sasuke finds his wife’s gaze creeping back to the work of his own hand. 

The hand on her chest slid down slightly to cup her breast, squeezing firmly before her thumb began to flick over a pert nipple. Her fingers pressed more insistently at her core, resulting in a high-pitched moan and delicious arch of her back.

“I imagined it was your hands,” she panted, wetting her lips with a flash of her pink tongue, “or your mouth. I’d imagine it was you, reaching deep inside me…”

Slickened fingers creep lower before one presses into her entrance. She glides in and out before a second joins the first, followed shortly by a third. Sasuke’s gaze darts between her fluttering lashes and the wetness that spills from her with each languid thrust. 

His wife is panting now, glistening with sweat and her own fluids as the hand at her breast tugs insistently at her peaks and the one below thrusts in and out steadily. The sound of her building moans and the wet glide of her fingers filter to his ears like a song, sending his blood to burning. Fluid gathers at the very tip of him, dribbling down his pulsing shaft as he dazedly follows the speed of her thrusting hand.

“And would you say my name when you came?” his voice sounds rough, an effect of his building pleasure and wavering restraint. 

“Yes,” Sakura whimpers, cherry-lips parting on a sharp cry as she sinks her fingers into herself faster.

Sasuke groans lowly as his own hand follows suit, “Let me hear it.”

Moans and cries are tumbling from his wife’s lips consistently now, and Sasuke is not sure if she’s heard him from the way she carries on, gazing dazedly at his pumping hand and the rippling of his abdomen and chest.

Say my name, Sakura,” he grits out, hips swaying into the thrust of his hand as more precum spills to lubricate the motions. “Show me how you make yourself come.”

“Sasuke-kun,” she whispers shakily, head falling back into the mattress as a violent shudder takes over her body and a deep moan rips through her chest. “Sasuke-kun.”

With his dojutsu engaged, he experiences each millisecond of her release as if it were a slowed-down portion of a film. The thrust of her fingers becomes sloppy and desperate, her hips curl inwards before pressing deep into the sheets as her spine arches high off the mattress. The toned muscles of her abdomen quiver and tense and her lips open wide as his name spills forth from her mouth in a shout that reverberates in the very marrow of his bones.

Sasuke has to grip the base of his shaft tightly when the air finally rushes back into his lungs, his entire form trembling as he watches the way his wife squirms in the aftershocks of her climax, wet fingers falling away from herself to grip at the sheets. He clings to the edge of his own orgasm by the skin of his teeth.

Green eyes meet his and he feels as if he’s burning.

“Anata,” she pants, reaching for him with a trembling hand. “Come here, please. I need you.”

He takes a kneeling position at the end of the bed, using his knees to spread her thighs wide once more as he gazes down at her hungrily. 

Sakura looks at him in utter confusion as he reaches out, grasping her hand and bringing it back down to the still-quivering, glistening spot between her legs.

“Sasuke-kun?” she chokes slightly as he applies pressure to her fingers, fixing them at the top of her mound and brushing his own lightly over her sensitive folds before he moves his hand away.

“Don’t worry, tsuma,” he murmurs, fixing his eyes on her form greedily as she lay panting and boneless before him. “I’ll take care of you.”

He sucks in a deep breath as he takes hold of his arousal once more, offering his dazed wife a tiny smile. The tomoe in his eye spin faster.

“Just let me watch one more time. Indulge me.”

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